


Mousy

by theundeadsiren (rhoen)



Category: In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Kindergarten & Pre-school, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-08
Updated: 2014-08-08
Packaged: 2018-02-12 06:32:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2099160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhoen/pseuds/theundeadsiren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pre-school Simon and Kieren. Kieren's the new kid, Simon's the one who prefers to stay away from the loud noises and the busy games.</p><p>[[Prompt from tumblr user mm-cupcake: "simon x kieren kindergarten au"]]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mousy

**Author's Note:**

> We don't actually have kindergarten in the UK (we start Year 1/Primary 1 aged 5), but we (in Scotland, at least) have Nursery around age 4 - which isn't compulsory - where you just play and paint and generally learn to be in a classroom-like environment with a teacher figure, and make friends (or avoid being bullied as much as possible). Most kids at the nursery I went to couldn't read or write until we went to actual school. I'm not sure how it is for other schools, but for the purpose of this, I'm just running with most kids still being into mud pies, whereas Simon's parents have been teaching him already and he already has an interest in words.

**You may not take this fic and edit or reupload it - in whole or in part - without my express permission. This includes translations.**  

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Thank you for respecting my wishes

* * *

 

Simon looked up from when he had secluded himself in the corner. There was a new boy. He looked at him, and the way that the new boy was looking around. He was squeezing his mum’s hand tightly, big eyes fearful as he took in the size of the room and all the people in it, while the two grownups talked above him. He looked very pretty for a boy, even if he seemed like he might cry. The new boy’s eyes drifted over to Simon’s corner, and he quickly ducked his head back down to his book. When he thought it was safe, Simon looked up again. The new boy was now nodding, paying attention to what his crouching mother was telling him. She was leaving. Was he going to cry? The new boy’s mum stood and walked out the room, waving to her son. Simon kept his eyes fixed on the mousy boy. Oh, he liked that word. It was the right word for the boy’s hair – he knew that because his mum was good with words for colours and all kinds of other things he didn’t always understand – but it also reminded Simon of an actual mouse and the new boy looked as small and surprised and scared as one whose house you had just blown down.

Miss Murray was leading the new boy over to where most of the other kids were playing at the craft table. They did as they were told and made space for him; Simon could hear the excited questions that started bombarding the new boy. Simon watched, still uncharacteristically interested, as the mousy boy did his best to answer. He seemed shy. His answers were short and softly spoken. It didn’t take long for the other kids to start talking about themselves again, talking over each other, forgetting the new boy. Simon found them uninteresting. He couldn’t get a clear view of the new boy – just a mess of mousy hair at the far end of a table of loud kids. He turned his attention back to his book.

After their first break, the craft table was forgotten. Returning to their large classroom from outside, Simon frowned as he looked over at his usual corner; there were other kids in it who had gotten there before he had finished hanging his coat up on the pegs outside the classroom door. The rest were gathered round the large snakes and ladders floor mat, Miss Murray overseeing the game that was just starting. Simon looked over at the table with crayons and craft items strewn across the surface. A lone figure sat, working at something. The new boy. Simon decided to go over to him.

“Hi,” he said as he approached the table. The new boy looked up. He didn’t say anything in return, but Simon didn’t even notice. He was too busy staring at the eyes that were staring back at him. They were very, very brown and very, very pretty.

Simon’s mum told him it was rude to stare. He made his eyes look away, and he saw the strange mess of pipe cleaners in the new boy’s hands. It was a very black, spiky thing.

“What are you making?”

“A spider.” The mousy boy’s voice was so soft it sounded like he was trying to keep quiet in church.

“We have spiders in our bath sometimes.”

Simon wasn’t quite sure why he said that. The new boy was looking back down at his creation.

“So do we. Mum doesn’t like them.”

“My mum doesn’t like high up things.”

They fell quiet for several moments. Simon helped himself to some of the pipe cleaners and focused on bending them into shape.

“My name is Kieren.”

He was surprised the other boy had spoken. When Simon looked at him, Kieren was still busy with his fuzzy spider.

“I’m Simon,” he replied simply. In his left hand he held up the first shape he had been working on – an ‘S’ to spell out his name. “See?”

Kieren looked up confused. Simon explained.

“I’m going to make my name.”

Kieren looked surprised.

“You can do that? You can make your name?”

Simon nodded, feeling very important.

“I can do it on paper.”

“Can you show me?”

Kieren left his spider, following Simon down the table to where a few blank pieces of paper sat waiting to be scribbled on. Simon took one, and then picked up a brown crayon and wrote his name as neatly as he could manage. He showed it to Kieren, who was close beside him. Big, brown eyes were lit up with wonder.

“Can you do mine?”

Simon turned back to the paper, about to try writing, but was stopped by Kieren flinging himself in the way. The mousy boy reached right over him and snatched at the crayons, standing properly next to Simon again and holding up a blue one.

“Use this.”

Simon took it. Kieren’s soft voice seemed at odds to the firm way the boy was telling him what to do.

“Blue is my favourite colour.”

Simon had never thought about what his favourite colour was. He kept quiet. Leaning over the paper, he concentrated hard to make sure he got the big ‘k’ right – sometimes his big ones and his small ones looked the same. He repeated the other boy’s name in his head – _Kieren_. It was a nice name. The ‘k’ looked okay… he moved on to the rest of the letters. It was harder to do words that weren’t his name, but after a minute Simon stood back and showed Kieren. The boy beside him smiled at the ‘K-E-E-R-E-N’ written in front of him.

“Can I keep it?” he asked.

“I can do a better one.”

“No, I like this one.”

Kieren was adamant. Simon nodded and pushed the paper closer to Kieren. The other boy took it, slowly walking back to where they had been working with the pipe cleaners. He put the paper with both their names on down next to him, out of the way of where he was working. Simon felt brown eyes looking at him, and looked up.

“Simon? Can we be friends?”

Simon didn’t have any friends. He didn’t like it when lots of people got noisy at the same time. He didn’t like having to hold hands in line. He didn’t like it when people kept poking their heads close to his, asking loud questions when he was trying to read. He really, really hated it when he’d had to go to Sophie’s birthday party and play games, but he did like the cake. People also didn’t like him because he didn’t like playing big games with lots of people. He hesitated.

“I don’t have any friends,” he stated simply.

“I can be your friend.”

If Kieren was his friend, maybe Simon wouldn’t have to hold hands with Jessica in the line when they went places. Kieren was making a spider when there was a big game going on that almost everyone else wanted to play. Maybe Kieren liked spiders as much as Simon liked reading.

“Would you like to sit next to me at lunch?”

Kieren nodded. “Are we friends?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

Simon liked the new boy. He felt himself smile a bit at the idea that he got to sit with his new friend at lunch. He was nice. They both worked away in silence. Simon kept looking up at Kieren. He thought his hair was nice. It was a mix of soft brown colours. He didn’t think it was as nice as Kieren’s eyes though. They were very pretty, and Simon liked it when Kieren looked at him.

Simon’s eyes fell on the paper where his own name was written in brown. He’d used it because it was the crayon everyone else forgot. No one else wanted it, so Simon made a point of using it just because of that. He hadn’t thought of any colour being nicer or being more boring than any other before now, but Kieren had brown hair and brown eyes. Simon liked that.

The glue wasn’t on the table, so Simon eventually gave up on the idea of gluing his name on some paper, and tried spelling out other things instead. Kieren had pulled his spider apart and was starting again. Both boys were happy to work in silence until they were called to line up at the door for lunch. They sat next to each other in the canteen, and Kieren even shared half of his Milky Bar with Simon.

When their parents came to collect them, Kieren ran over to his mum when she came in, greeting her with a clingy hug to her leg. Simon watched from where they were gathered on the carpet – they had been playing ‘I am thinking of…’ as an entire class. Kieren’s mum obviously wanted to talk to Miss Murray, so had disentangled her son. He hadn’t seemed upset – he’d gone over to the craft table and then walked over to where Simon sat and presented him with the spider he’d been working on earlier.

“This is for you.”

Simon was amazed. He looked up, taking the leggy creature. Kieren flashed him a smile, which Simon couldn’t help but return.

“Thank you,” he managed to say quietly, trying to get past his surprise. His eyes flickered down to the spider now in his hands, then back up to Kieren’s face, but the other boy was already turning and darted back to his mum. Simon’s own mum appeared in the doorway. He got up carefully, taking care of the spider. As Simon left, he gave Kieren a wave. He didn’t quite know why he did that, but he felt happy when Kieren saw and waved back. He didn’t know it would feel this nice to have a friend.

**Author's Note:**

> I always worry I've ruined these things *sigh*


End file.
